The Little Things
by swaqdanny
Summary: dibble dabbling small stories until I am actually productive. Chapter 21 - Drips: Sometimes, I wish it only was the faucet.
1. Love

**Instead of flooding my list of written stories with one-shots and drabbles that I write, they are going to congregate in this mass work.  
**

**Happy Dannyversary, everybody;)**

**I do not own Danny Phantom nor anything else that might have a copyright throughout these posts  
**

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Title: Love  
Summary: The boy had fought back for the last time.  
No pairing.

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He wanted to scream. To shout. To just let it all out. His mouth formed to all the noises he wanted to make, but not one decibel escaped his lips. He was just a puppet, after all.

A puppet made and designed to do whatever his master pleased. He did not like his master that much – not the hunched back, the black overcoat that was way too big for his scrawny body, the long black and red striped socks, nor the hallow, white face. He didn't even like the red staff the man held, with the glowing red orb attached on top.

The red orb that whispered to him. Whispered to him secrets about himself he didn't even know. Whispered into his ear words of power, of wealth. Whispered into his ear words of death, of denial, of _misunderstandment_.

No one really truly understood what he was. He doubted the orb even knew. What the detailings of being a ghost and a human at the same time. The worries. The responsibilities he felt he had. Was it his humanity that made him fight, or was it the instinctual struggle to be free? To not live trapped? He couldn't push these thoughts back, as the orb would only repeat itself. Was he going crazy, hearing things that didn't exist?

Regardless, he became discontented with this life; discontented of the orb, of being a slave. He still begrudgingly followed its orders – robbing banks, performing circus stunts, fight for his master. But he wasn't happy. He wasn't the willing servant that his master hoped the boy would be.

He had pulled on the chains of servitude before. He had refused participation in what his master wanted him to do before. Regardless of what his master told him, he knew he had the reason to fight for something. For someone.

He never had forgotten his friends and family at home, even if he couldn't remember their names. He could only see their faces. Their smiles. He even missed the blonde jock kid that used to beat him up every day. It just made him feel hopeful again. Hopeful enough to fight for them.

He never had forgotten them, as his master soon found out during again another tasteless, defiant struggle that brought the pesky ghost boy nowhere. He had once again refused to put on his Death cloak and wield the scythe. His master once again beat him mercilessly. At least the stupid kid knew not to fight back anymore.

But his defiance still had to be crushed, once and for all.

And so, with a twist the puppet's strings, his master once again brought him home. Brought him back to where the puppets of his comrades lay. And what did his master do after that?

He made his puppet cut the strings off his dear friends and family. The strings that attached them to life.

And they fell, the puppets he had not used nor cared, down into the great furnace below, never to come back again. And next into the furnace was the town; what was once the boy's backdrop, now erupting in green ghostly flames.

The master had not laid one finger on its destruction. It was only the child to receive the blame, only the child to be dishonored and hunted down.

He released control of the handle used to steer his puppet, and the boy finally opened his eyes to the fire around him. The fire he caused. The destruction to everything that he had loved and remembered. The reason for his fight, up in his own flames.

He cried in anguish. How could have nobody just stopped him? How could they let him do this? His friends, his family, his Phans – all gone. There was nothing left for him. He curled up into a ball, waiting for the fire to consume him too.

Danny was never the one for such luck.

Here the boy now lay broken, a steel collar attached to his neck, portraying him like the dog he was. A silver chain ran up from his collar to his master's desk, restricting his freedom. But the chain was pointless. The boy had given up hope.

And like a dog, he was curled at his master's feet, wanting to be forgiven. Wanting to be loved. Because the only thing that he could rely on anymore was his master with the red ball. Filling his mind with gentleness. Filling his mind with protection. Filling his mind with love.

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**I blame myself for even flaming the idea in my head last night. But this ANGST wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for my damn tumblr post.**


	2. Food Addict

**somehow I got to this while writing a Grey Ghost one-shot. I am not sorry for the results.**

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Title: Food Addict  
Summary: Danny never knew why his ghost side didn't go hungry.  
No pairing.

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"Here, boy!" The silvery-white haired teen shook a screeching hot dog in front of his green puppy. Loading his arm back, the boy threw the horror across the clearing. "Go get it!"

The puppy barked twice, locking its gaze upon the flying weenie. Bounding after it, Danny watched on fondly as Cujo snatched up his prize and shook his head furiously, growling as it ripped apart the demented meat. With a delighted yap, the ghost dog ate the remains.

More screeching and howls came from the blue ice box that rested near Danny's thigh. He threw a long look at the container, his stomach murmuring hungry thoughts out loud. With a sigh, the boy reached in to grab another, wincing as one bit his hand. Pulling the limb out, he saw the hot dog hanging for its life by its teeth. With an amused chuckle, he plucked it off with his other hand and bit into it, depleting the amount of ectoweenies by another one.

With a gulp, he grimaced as he tasted the remaining ectoplasm in his mouth. It has gotten better though, Danny mused. He had found substitutes for his cravings; instead of ripping apart ghosts and eating the remains like he involuntarily used to, like _Vlad_ does for glee, a simple injection of the Ghost Zone's ectoplasm in some of his food keeps the craving to a minimum.

But the _horror_ Danny continuously relived when he had awoken one day, a half-eaten Box Ghost in front of him. Vlad had been sitting beside him, chuckling as he reached into the carcass and scooped up some of the deceased's fluids.

"I always wondered how long it would take for your ghost half to take control of your body in hunger." The archenemy mused, letting the thick liquid drip from his gloved fingertips. "And just what unfortunate ghost you will find first."

Danny flung himself back and yelped in horror as Vlad began sucking the glove, cleaning it off. With a smack of the lips, the older hybrid hummed in thought, before he began to smirk. "Who knew something so dirty could _taste _so elegant."

"You're sick." Danny heaved, unable to produce any of the vomit his body so desperately wanted to throw out. Vlad only tsked in annoyance. "And I would never do something so horrible!"

"Am I the sick one, Daniel? Did I kill an actual, fully-developed ghost for cannibalism?" Vlad eyes twinkled in enjoyment as Danny shuffled back even more from both him and the re-rotting corpse. Holding out a phone, he beckoned his little badger to watch the video that began to play. "You're in denial, boy. Just take a look at this and you will see the truth."

Danny leaned in a little to see the images move, but he soon froze as he saw himself; ripping apart the lowly Box Ghost, tearing into the screaming spirit with his teeth. But it didn't stop there. Next was the body of a headless Ember, with himself drinking the spewing ectoplasm from the stump of her neck. Then there was Skulker, whose shrieks even made the phone vibrate as Danny swallowed him in one giant gulp. And as the video turned for the tenth time, now setting a focus on his friend Dora, Danny lost it.

Vlad had shown him the truth, alright. Danny didn't know when he stopped screaming, stopped crying. He didn't know when Vlad stopped laughing at his rival's anguish, his rival's tears. All he knew is that when it stopped, he was alone. Alone with the product of his deadly hunger.

Cujo had wandered back to his master, only to find the glowing teen's face covered in tears. With a whimper, he nudged at Danny's hand, trying to draw attention back to him. When that didn't work, he bounded upon the boy, knocking both of them over. He began to cover his own wet trail across his master's face until Danny began laughing, lifting his dog up into the air.

"Oh, Cujo. You silly dog!" He brought his friend back down and hugged his pet, who squirmed in excitement. But something inside him began to roar, and as he continued to stare at the dog in his arms, the more he could feel the urge he was trying so hard to repress come tearing back through him. Danny closed his eyes, letting loose newly formed tears that washed away any sign that the dog had cheered him up. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Maddie had found her son in his room, staring up at the ceiling, eyes sunken in horror and dread. She was worried, all right – Danny has been in this depression for days. "Danny, honey?" She called to him, hoping that his body will somewhat shift in recognition. To her despair, he didn't. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, mom." The reply came in a soft whisper. Danny continued to stare to his ceiling, but it wasn't focused there. It was never focused there. It was focused at nothing present, but everything past.

Maddie bit her lip. "You know, Danny, you could always tell me if something's wrong."

"I know."

Maddie sighed, before closing the door to her son's room, clearly worried. But Danny never noticed her exit. All he remembered were the terrified yelps and squeaks of his ghostly companion as he gripped the now-empty Axion collar tighter.

* * *

**the feels.  
**


	3. Sweet Dreams

**I'm no good at writing lovey stuff but hey at least I didn't murder anyone in this **(◕‿◕✿)

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Title: Sweet Dreams  
Summary: Valerie gets a little side-tracked on her way to a sleepover  
Pairing: Gray Ghost

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"I am so late." Valerie muttered as her hunting gear enveloped her pajamas and backpack. Star had invited her to sleep over tonight at eight o'clock, and her phone told the girl time was rolling past ten. Sure, she could just say that she was fighting that no good Phantom again, but Star didn't know about her double life as the Red Huntress. So might have to stick with her overused excuse of homework taking longer than expected – she knew Star wasn't going to buy _that _one soon as well.

As she jumped out the window, her board forming underneath her feet, her mind wandered back to that earlier fight. As usual, she was the one that always fired the first shot, and then the chase would ensue until Phantom finally lost her with his speed. She growled at the thought. The fact that she always lost Phantom irked her, as well as the fact he _never_ fought back. Always trying to seem like he is good, like he is a hero. But she knew he was destructive. One day, she will catch him. She will expose his little act.

But she was really ready? She bit her lip, remembering when she saw him blow away that hunter ghost with that horrible wail that came out of his mouth. The _power_ he had could easily destroy Amity Park. It could destroy her! So why did Phantom never seem to use this power against her? In fact, why not even fight her back if he knew he was stronger than the two?

Her ghost alarm brought her out of her musing, telling her that a specter was nearby. Sighing, she decided that another five minutes late to Star's wouldn't make a difference. Valerie dived down into the park below, closing in on the location of the ghost. And as the woods opened up into a clearing, she immediately froze in place, her hand snapping to the hip where an ectogun resided. Laying in front of her resided the menace himself, his backed propped up against a tree into an almost-sitting position. His head was nodded downwards, eyes closed as if he was sleeping. Even his chest lightly rose and fell subconsciously as if his 'breathing' was slow.

"Nice try, Phantom; but that's not fooling me." She raised her gun and aimed, turning off the safety. But as the gun charged, the boy didn't even move an inch, continuing the act of slumber - seeming unaware that she was currently about to end his existence. She continued to creep forward until she was almost upon him, glaring down at the young teen. But something about the situation before her made Valerie lower her weapon.

Here was her _enemy_, lying in the middle of the forest, completely defenseless. Was she really going to cheat her way into destroying him while he assumed sleep? She gingerly placed a hand around one of his wrists, and took a sharp breath when she felt the low, slow thud of a heartbeat.

Phantom literally _was_ alive. He _was_ breathing. And now here he lay, sleeping in the open where any of his ghostly enemies could find him. Including her.

Valerie looked into the face of what once she considered a threat, now seeing what was once youth and innocence now marred by battle and fear. She could have killed him. Just like how she could've killed…

The huntress smacked herself when she realized that Dani was half human too. Why didn't she see the connection before!? Guilt was now tearing her inside-out as she continued to stare into a face that for once at peace in the world.

"I'm sorry Phantom…" Valerie muttered, retracting her suit and sitting next to him. She pulled out the blanket that she was going to use at the sleepover and draped it over the boy's body. He stirred slightly, the legs shifting through the fabric at the sudden warmth. His arm floated downwards and pulled on it, moving the blanket upwards to his face to snuggle with it. Valerie smiled a little at the childish gesture, before pulling out her pillow as well; placing it in the space between the teen and the tree. The ghost shifted once again, rolling around the pillow before finally settling again.

"I hope you're comfortable, you jerk." Valerie snorted in amusement. She knew Star would have extras once she finally got there. She brushed a few white strands a hair out of his face, stroking the cool skin of his forehead. Her hands froze as Phantom began to squirm, mouth opening and closing as if he had something to say.

"No… Valerie…" The words escaped the ghost's mouth, making the girl jump. Why did he just say her name? Was he having a nightmare? Could ghosts even have nightmares? Valerie watched in wide eyes as the ghost continued to squirm and twist, his hand sometimes lighting in green and blue.

"Don't… please! Valerie!… I love you…"

She couldn't speak as she stared down at the distraught sleeper. Phantom was in love with her? It made so much sense though; why he was willing to give himself up to her, why he never fought her back, why he always told her to get away from other ghosts so she wouldn't get hurt. But what about her? How did she feel about him? Could she only find hate in the name and the boy because of the accident two years ago?

The same accident however, she realized, made her life better too. She now had true friends in Danny, Sam, and Tucker, she and her father were closer than ever, and she wasn't obsessed with spending money anymore - in fact, she was working to save it. And as she pushed aside her hate, she could see the other feelings for him. Respect, trust… and love. She loved his pure white hair, his smile, his awkward quirks. She loved his humility, his need to protect, his kind heart. She thought she could never reveal these things about herself to him, as if he could feel the same way.

Her hand stroked his cheek lightly, her teal eyes now filled with emotion staring down on him. He seemed to calm with her touch; the muttering subsiding to unintelligible levels. "I love you too, Phantom."

As if he heard her, a small smile appeared on his lips. Valerie leaned down and kissed his brow, warming his forehead. She continued to stroke his cheek as she transformed back into her suit, remembering she still needed to get to Star's before the blonde threw a fit. Removing herself from his side, she gave one last look as she took off. "Sweet dreams, ghost boy."


	4. Masters

**I worked fast on this one because the previous one sucked I'm sorry**

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Title: Masters  
Summary: All he wanted was to play.  
Pairing: Gray Ghost/Cujo

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The ghost dog was happy beyond whatever he dreamed of. All his life he was trained to be obedient to orders and protect; never once able to just have fun, play, and burn all his pent up energy like a pup should. Even after he completed his courses, maturing over the time, Cujo was sent directly to a very large, very white looking building, locked up with the rest of his peers. And not even two weeks of being there, they were all removed, and...

Cujo couldn't remember what exactly happened to him. But he didn't really care. Ever since he had found his boy, his master, Cujo was living the life he never was able to have. At first, the human ghost did not seem that thrilled to have him around, but the years have passed where it seemed like every day he would spend time to play with the dog.

This evening was no exception. He had heard his friend's whistle from outside the Ghost Zone, and he came speeding out in search of the call – finding the white-haired boy waving a flying disc in the middle of a field with a big smile on his face. "Cujo! You want to play Frisbee!?"

With a series of excited yaps, the boy threw the disc through the air, sailing over scattered treetops like a small UFO. Cujo bounded after it, scampering through the tall grasses chasing the blue escapee. With a bound, Cujo leapt off the ground and caught it with his mouth before giving a few shakes of his head to confirm confinement of the rogue flying object.

The dog looked back to his master, eyes gleaming as the boy gestured for his friend to come back. With a devious growl, the dog dropped the disk and sprinted back, soon jumping up to his master's chest as he now tried attacking the face with licks of love.

Danny caught the dog and hugged him tight, laughing as Cujo squirmed to attack his face with the small tongue. "Cujo, stop!" Danny laughed. Instantly, the dog pulled his head back and snuggled down into the boy's arms, missing the small frown that now etched his master's face.

Cujo obeyed any order, regardless if Danny actually meant it or not. It was about as bad as Desiree granting any sentence that began with 'I wish'; the training he endured in his youth never truly left when he became a ghost.

"You know, Cujo, I'm not like them." Danny whispered to the friend in his arms. "You don't have to follow my every order. I'm your friend."

Cujo's red eyes looked up into his boy's face, and he gingerly licked it again. He didn't like seeing him upset, regardless if he had told him to stop. He saw Danny's mood brighten as he brought the dog closer to his chest. "That's my Cujo."

A shot pierced the surrounding stillness, and Cujo felt the grip around his body slacken. Peering curiously into his master's eyes, the once youthful, bright glow that was the same color as his fur was quickly diminishing. A wet sensation began forming on the dog, and he looked at his body to realize it was now coated in ectoplasm – red flakes dancing inside the liquid. Cujo barked in alarm as both of their bodies began to fall to the Earth, and jumped out of the loosened hold. He nudged his owner's face in the collapse. He was still breathing, but Cujo could feel it. The warmth of his only friend, the warmth of his true companion – it was fading away.

A crackle of laughter sparked in the air, and from the shadows of a depleting sun stood the Red Huntress, an ectorifle still pointed down at the fallen hero. Her mask had retracted back, allowing anyone, _everyone_, to see her glee.

"It's been three years, ghost!" The African American chirped. "Three years of hunting you down! The elusive, spectral pearl known as Phantom, his pure white and silver tarnished in his own sickly green blood." She bent down, pulling the boy's head up by the hair. "Revenge couldn't come sweeter, could it?"

Cujo barked angrily at the huntress, jumping in between her and his master. But he would not grow into the menacing terror that he could to protect his friend. That was one of Danny's few rules; not to harm his friend no matter what she did. Including death.

Valerie recoiled in surprise, and then laughed again. "Oh, how perfect! His own mangy mutt is here to watch him die. It's too late, ghost dog! You're owner is already long gone." With a cheshire grin, she kicked the puppy aside, which had again become too distressed with the condition Danny was in, and pulled out a simple ectogun. She pulled the boy's head up again, catching the last shimmers of afterlife in his darkening eyes. "Any final words until even your afterlife is over, Phantom?"

Those eyes, ever so slowly, lifted to stare into her own. And what Valerie felt, she never knew she would expect to see again.

The memories of her mother, bed-ridden from cancer. She was squeezing her daughter's hand, smiling. Valerie had been crying, and the image of her dying mother blurred. Those once strong hands, now ever-so-fragile, gently pushed the weak thumbs across her daughters face. The smile was one of comfort, but her mother's eyes were the ones that kept her moving on. Those eyes that were masked in pain, yet Valerie could see what else resided in the deep pools for irises.

She saw the hope. She saw light. She saw the happiness. She saw the love.

But, unfortunately, life can't always leave children pure. Valerie had seen the acceptance of death in her mother's eyes. Something that Valerie wished her mother never would have agreed to.

It was these same emotions that circled through Phantom's eyes. Love. Acceptance.

And regret.

"Valerie…" came a choked whisper, Phantom's lungs quickly scuba-diving in his own blood. It trickled down his mouth as he coughed, trying to clear his throat to continue. "Valerie… you finally won."

"No!" screamed Valerie, fighting back tears in her eyes. This was Phantom, her mortal enemy! She was supposed to feel complete with this spook's death! But somehow, it just seemed that her life was becoming even emptier. "What's wrong with you!? Why aren't you the confident, cocky son-of-a-bitch I've come to despise! Phantom, come on, you're stronger than this! You _need_ to live!"

"But isn't this what you always wanted?" The teen chuckled, before grunting in pain at the sudden jerk of his body. "For me to be gone forever?"

"Not anymore! I don't know how, but without you, my life wouldn't be as perfect as it is now. I wouldn't have discovered my real friends, the true meaning of work… without you, nobody's life is going to be the same."

A smile worked its way onto the features of the ghost, turning his eyes to the stars. "Do you think that I will find my way up there? Amongst the stars? I always wanted to be an astronaut, traveling through the great unknown…"

Valerie had turned him over on his back, now cradling the boys head in her lap. Throwing her gun a fair distance away, she began stroking her fingers through the matted hair, sometimes caressing his forehead and cheek. Cujo had come back, curling himself next to both of their bodies, whimpering. She was choking on her tears, finding it harder to speak without letting them fall, but she forced out a pained smile. The ghost boy had already given up trying to survive. "I bet you will, ghost boy. You always seem to be able to do the impossible."

The turn of events, however, continued to nag at Valerie. Why does Phantom feel so familiar to her? The way he acted, his dreams, they all reminded her of…

The realization hit her like a train.

"No..." Valerie stared at the boy in her lap in horror, thick tears now streaming down her cheeks. They plopped down onto the boy's face, cleaning away the dirt and blood that covered it. It only revealed the harsh reality more. "No! Danny!"

A single tear left his eye as he barely raised a gloved hand to hold Valerie's face. "Whatever you're thinking, Valerie, this isn't your fault. I didn't know how you would take the secret, you hunting me for three years and all now. But this isn't your fault. I can't blame you. In fact, Valerie, I am thankful that it was you. I much rather die in someone I love's arms, than die in those of an enemy, disappearing forever from existence." His hand fell, and his eyes shimmered the last time. "I am forever grateful, Valerie. And I will forever love you."

And as the last glimmer left his eye, two dull white wings slowly traveled up his body, changing the once black HAZMAT to his white shirt and blue jeans. Valerie stared in horror as it came to his face, and confirmed the secret that she so hoped wasn't turning out to be true.

She smothered his body, her sobs mangling with the mournful howls of the now lonely Cujo. But the howls soon stopped, feeling something unnatural to him. It was a voice, distant, not even ghostly – but it was his master's no doubt. And after the voice disappeared, the dog lifted itself to his paws and made its way to Valerie's face, whimpering and nudging her cheek.

Valerie opened her eyes to the dog, staring at it with her bloodshot eyes. With a shaky smile, she brought a hand forward and stroked its head. "Maybe I'll keep you, Cujo." Valerie whispered. "Danny would have liked that."

The dog hummed in happiness. He might have just lost his best friend, but it was now his duty to keep his owner's mate happy and protected in Danny's absence.

It's what his master's final order was, after all.

* * *

Jazz Fenton, now 24, approached the quiet graveyard with quiet steps. Two bouquets were grasped in her hand as she walked past each individual gravestone, searching for the two names she was hoping to find. Every name she knew as she passed each marking sobered the psychologist's feelings even more, but they were never the answer to her search.

She wasn't surprised when the last two gravestones she looked at were the ones Jazz was looking for. They were situated sort of away from the rest, on top of a hill with a blooming tree shadowing the two deceased. The pink buds slowly fell through the breeze, dotting the soft grass that covered the hill.

What she wasn't expecting, however, was to find Cujo, Danny's ghost dog, resting vigil between the two, looking old and worn. Its eyes were shut, body twitching in horror as what she assumed were evil visions passing through the guard pup's eyes. She knelt down beside the dog and began to stroke it, trying to calm the poor ghost.

"There, there Cujo. It's okay." She whispered, placing the two flower arrangements on the appropriate graves. She looked at each individual one, before reading the sign between the two.

_RIP Danny Fenton, 1991-2008  
RIP Valerie Gray, 1991-2009  
Two star-crossed lovers forever entwined to what they saw as debt for each other._

She glanced back down at the dog, whose eyes now looked mournfully up at hers. He had failed to protect his master, his owner, his true friend. He had failed to even save Danny's mate. He had sat vigil at the graves for four years now. But the dog could never fill the hole of guilt.

"Cujo, let's go, it's not your fault." Jazz tried picking up the dog, but it shuffled away, shaking its head. The red eyes dulled, Cujo's body fading from reality. Jazz watched with regret as her brother's companion vanished from life, its reason to exist gone forever.


	5. Reminder

**okay so on tumblr there's a thing going on in the Phandom called phanniemay. Basically a different topic to write/draw/do whatever you want concerning the subject. Day 1 was bruises, but I felt too much angst would come with this, so... I attempted fluff again. sigh. when will I learn.**

**Deborahpflover: you're review literally had my walk away from my computer in amazement because I regretted writing that as soon as I posted it because I was thinking "my god the main focus switched so many times" and that little part about Jazz was hastily added and just... thank you.**

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Title: Reminder  
Summary: Stiff turtlenecks can cover anything  
Pairing: Pitch Pearl **(this is one of my favorite pairings yet I have no idea how to write it?)**

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Danny tugged at the collar of the scratchy white and red striped turtleneck that hugged his body. His hand circled underneath the rim, wincing as he traced over a sensitive spot. Rolling his eyes, the teen removed his hand from his neck, the elastic cloth softly snapping back into place.

He glanced over at his white-haired counterpart, still lying in bed. Glowing emeralds stared back at him as he formed a scowl. "This was _not_ what I had in mind for today, Phantom."

"Psh, Fenton. It looks fine. I don't understand why you refuse to wear it - it's November and everything outside is completely frozen over. You can't afford to get hypothermia."

"I look like fucking Waldo." The raven hair boy grumbled, plopping a seat next to the ghost. He slouched forward, resting his head in an upturned palm. "Now all I need is the floppy candy-cane cap and glasses."

"Don't be such a grump." The ghost placed a hand on the human's back, attempting to rub in some happiness. "In fact, I think it looks cute."

"Dude, everything I wear is cute to you - even if it's just my standard white shirt and jeans."

"Because all of your clothes are cute - especially when they're on the floor."

Fenton smirked at the comment as he rounded to face Phantom. With an evil glint in his cerulean eyes, he shoved the ghost teen off the bed. A blur of tan skin, a thud, and a quick yelp solidified his success. "Did you know I think _you _look cute on the floor?"

"Not funny." Phantom muttered, pushing himself off the carpet. "At least let me relax before I have to protect you from the daily mayhem." He stretched up into the air, the rumpled black boxers clinging around his sculpted waist. He floated there for a bit before revolving back to his human counterpart, grinning. The ghost zoomed over the teen's head and plopped himself right on Fenton's lap, nuzzling his face into the warm fleece.

"Some guard dog I have." Fenton snorted, a little amused at the ghost's antics. "More like a cat that needs declawing; I wouldn't have to be wearing this itchy thing if it wasn't for you."

"Oh, hush." Phantom laughed, pulling down on Fenton's collar to expose the decently sized plum mark on the human's neck. He tenderly kissed the spot, earning himself a hiss of pleasurable pain from the human. Phantom removed his mouth from the skin before gesturing to the mark on his own neck and the scratches scaling down the ghost's back. "Speaking of cats, I didn't go unscathed last night, either."

"So what, bro? Just because it's seemingly normal for seventeen year olds to have sex, _I _didn't want anyone finding out about how I spend my pastimes. Just what are Sam and Tucker going to think when they see this hickey?"

Phantom held up a dismissive hand; using the other to push himself off Fenton. "You're missing the point, again. It's freezing outside; everybody is going to be as covered up as you are. Stop being so self-conscious."

"Says the ghost that gets embarrassed every time he loses some part of clothing in front of a crowd."

With an indignant huff, Phantom turned from the raven-haired boy. "That means nothing."

Fenton let loose a smile before standing and giving the ghost a hug from behind. "Cheer up, Phantom. I was totally kidding. It's kind of cute how I'm the only one you let see more than the skin on your face." He felt the ethereal body turn in his arms; their foreheads pressing together as his love's strong arms wrapped around his backside. Fenton shifted his chin into the nook of his ghost's shoulder, his face going somber. "Promise me you'll be okay?"

"Since when have I ever not been okay? I have you, in case you've forgotten." He felt Phantom grin as the gloved hands laced their way back up to the human's shoulders. "I'm sorry about the hickey, Fenton. I did kind of lose control."

He looked back into those jade irises, revealing the ghost's loving concern. He locked lips with his companion, before whispering into the opposite mouth. "Don't be sorry Phantom. I love it; it's my own special reminder of you."


	6. Flight

**day 2 of phanniemay (I got a little ahead of myself) Theme of the day: flying**

**all of my writings are getting shorter oops?**

* * *

Title: Flight  
Summary: Flying will set you free.  
No pairing.

* * *

He wanted to fly.

Trees seemed to maneuver around him as he continued to run from his captors. Bleeding wounds, dyed in dark red and greens, striated across his body, visible underneath the tattered shirt and jeans. Rocks cut open his feet, ignorant branches whipped at his body; all refusing to make way for the escapee. A particular root spiraled through the air before diving into the Earth again, and the raven-haired boy took a leap.

He needed to fly.

Gravity pulled him down to Earth yet again, losing stability as he hit the ground running. The shouts behind him were becoming distant, but he didn't dare look back. The trees behind him were swallowing the retreating lands whole, sometimes burping up small blurs of white against the darkness. Occasionally these blurs would be aqua and tangerine; images that hammered the stake into his breaking heart.

He was alone because he had flown.

Two weeks of running from his own family. Two weeks of running from the Guys in White. When they made their allegiances, he never found out. When they found out just what he was, he didn't want to know. Bitter tears were lost in the wind as our child was plagued once more with fearsome visions of the past. He had been lying on top of the Ops Center, tracing the constellations of Orion and Draco with a finger that seemed as big as the distant suns. The alarm on his watch had warned him of his curfew, and the ghost child floated down to his own window; only to meet his parents staring straight back at him from the open glass, gun cocked at his forehead.

Click, Bang.

He was losing himself. He was losing control. His veins suicidally pumped the deteriorating ectoplasm, glowing a putrid color underneath now deathly pale skin. And as his road-less-traveled-by came to an end, he gazed out into the night sky; a meteor shower crossed through the heavens, streaking lines of astral light carving their way through the twinkling midnight.

His only wish was to fly again. But only children can believe in the magic of a shooting star. The boy glanced down over the ledge, blinking at the nothingness below. The rumble behind him became louder, and he closed his eyes for the last time.

Wind whipped and whistled through his hair in the last fleeting moments of his memory. The boy's smile never left his face even when his pursuers found his body, bent at unnatural angles in the bottom of the ravine.

He had finally flown again; and it never had felt so good.


	7. Hide and Seek

**day 4 of phanniemay (I did day 3 but yea that was complete smut so it's getting put somewhere else)**

**and shoutout to Deborahpflover, who leaves a review every chapter. thank you for continuing to read my crap.**

* * *

Title: Hide and Seek  
Summary: Run, run, as fast as you can.

Pairing: none (unless you start thinking about the future after this)

* * *

"Run, run while you can, Daniel."

Danny threw himself out of the way as a red blast tore down the middle of the street, lighting up the apocalyptic darkness. He could just make out the shadows of individual bodies, all torn and bloody as the eerie light blazed past them. Dozens of them scattered throughout the street, mangled on top of each other. He tripped as he started to run again, stumbling over a something that was smaller than the regular corpse.

He wish he hadn't looked back to see the severed head, skull gleaming through the ripped face.

It had been only 72 hours. 72 hours of running. 72 hours of darkness. 72 hours since the world stopped breathing. 72 hours closer to his capture. "On the Third day he will rise from the dead." The holy book burned the words into his mind last night as he tried to recognize something from his past life, something to bring comfort. But, as the clock continued to turn forward, he was beginning to lose hope in the one thing even his parents could not fully explain.

He couldn't afford to stop, couldn't afford to believe that he will be saved. He silently wished that the malevolent spirit would have killed him first – instead; he was the last one to even be moving on the desolate planet. "The fucker." Danny hissed, diving again into another alley as another beam shattered the air. He phased into a trash bin, conveniently loaded with more bodies. He couldn't smell them anymore – the sense dying after the permanent stain of bleeding flesh lingered in the horizon. He wished it didn't have to come to this, but it was the only thing that could possibly save him now, possibly give him more time. It had to save him from the enemy – even if he's destroyed everything else he held dear.

His entire body ached as the horror flooded back from his hippocampus – the Fenton house completely blown away, as well as Tucker's and Sam's. He killed them first, as well as everyone in Amity, before moving on to Vlad's manor in Wisconsin. The mature half ghost had a head start when he found a ripped-in-half Skulker, telling him to run – or so he thought.

Danny found Masters and Plasmius separated from each other, both with holes through their chests. He had never cried for the man before, but Vlad never deserved this. Nothing Vlad would ever do deserved this.

He felt the bin jerk upwards, and he bit his lip in fear. He could hear the whistling of the air, gravity pulling him against the bodies until they began to drop.

Danny wasn't going to be silent anymore. He screamed as physics pulled them straight down, throwing the young halfa out of the trashcan; his head letting out a resonating smack as it hit the concrete, face being cut open as he slid across the ground.

He was done. Broken. Danny didn't even bother moving as the heavy footsteps stepped up to him, a strong hand grabbing him by the neck and pulling him to eye level.

Gleaming ruby eyes shattered the dull emeralds, a smirk on the pale blue ghosts who's hair was ignited with white fire.

"Tsk tsk, Danny. I was hoping your little game would be more of a challenge. You still seemed like you had a little life in you – after I took everything."

"Please… just kill me already…"

Dark Dan threw his head back and laughed, his forked tongue popping out as his triumph rang out in the air. "Oh no, our hero has finally given up! You know, Danny…" His grip on the neck became tighter, bringing Danny to involuntarily jerk for air. "If this was a year ago, I would have granted your request. But being stuck in a thermos for so long, well… it changes the circumstances."

"I'll kill myself then."

"But how, Daniel, you won't be able to run anymore, in fact…" He threw Danny against a raised knee, causing a ear-splitting crack and a scream to haunt the ages. "You won't be moving, period."

He held up the body of a limp Phantom, spine broken for good. Tears fell from the soulless eyes, and the evil Phantom kindly wiped them off his younger self's face. "Cheer up, kid. Instead of dying, you now get to suffer for an eternity, unable to do anything about it. Aren't I so generous?"


	8. Timeless

**day 5: Vlad (so late in posting these god)**

* * *

Title: Timeless  
Summary: In the end, there is no conclusion.  
Pairing: Badger Cereal (aka father/son fic, Pompous Pep is the romantic ship)

* * *

Vlad took a seat on a badly beaten chair, upholstery billowing out of the tears in the fabric. Sighing, the man closed his eyes and massaged his temples, trying to relieve the headache of last night.

They had fought again, as usual. He had mentioned some things that was not necessary to utter, and the boy, though mentally older than he used to be, still responded with childish antics. He was surprised the castle hadn't even collapsed yet from the forces of Yin and Yang.

He threw a glance at what was once his trophy case full of Packer's paraphernalia. Anger temporarily flared up inside of him, before Vlad forced the resentment down. He can just buy it again; he was a billionaire, after all.

However, his love for the Packers had dwindled over the years. He mused at the thought of even buying more jerseys and helmets, when his money could be used for much more important needs, like the boy that currently slept in one of the master suites upstairs.

It had been a while now since Daniel had moved in with him. The boy couldn't risk going to his parents, not after he realized what was happening to his body. They made it blatantly honest what they would do to Phantom if they caught him, and the boy was scared they wouldn't see him as their son anymore if they found out. Vlad wouldn't put it past Jack; yet when he realized Maddie was just as blinded by her hatred… Daniel needed to be somewhere safe.

What really broke the boy didn't come from the parting of his family. His once bothersome friends had tried to comfort him, saying it that the effects might only be temporary. This same "temporary" was used to excuse themselves from ever talking to him again.

Anger flared inside Vlad again, letting it boil in defense of his charge. How _dare _they treat the boy like his own feelings meant nothing? Toss him aside in his greatest despair? Sure, the man thought, he could have told Daniel from the beginning what would happen, but they never saw eye to eye back then.

They rarely did so today.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway, and Vlad stopped his musings to gaze at the youth. The raven hair was disheveled everywhere, sky blue irises rimmed with an angry, irritated red. Last night was obviously much rougher for him than Vlad thought.

Danny crossed the room, tiptoeing through glass that was randomly discarded from the broken windows. His eyes swept over the mess, lowering the gaze he held on Vlad until he stood before him, pupils now directed at his feet.

"I made a mess, didn't I." The young halfa looked back up to Vlad, unable to control the sorrow that emitted from his voice. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were to painfully kick me out of the house."

"Just why would I do that, little badger." Vlad pulled the boy down, placing Danny in his lap. The teen laid against Vlad, shoulders slumping as the older halfa began to run his fingers through boy's hair, soothing the poor spirit. "These days, any sort of comfort is what you need."

"I don't deserve it."

"You do, Daniel. I won't let you live a life I was forced to have; the bitter solitude would destroy you. It's hard to be immortal, forever frozen as time continues to age others. We'll watch as people grow and die, a cycle that now excludes not only me, but you as well."

Vlad continued to stroke the boys head as the eyelids started to flutter into sleep.

"Promise you won't ever leave me like they did?" The words echoed around the silent room, freezing Vlad's fingers as he looked down in surprise at the boy that was quickly turning lethargic in his arms.

The elder carefully stood, carrying the boy bridal style as they flew into Danny's suite. He lowered the boy onto the bed, and kissed his brow. "I promise, Daniel. You're my favorite hero, after all." He turned to go before his hand was grabbed by the fourteen year old. And after the three years of the boy living with his archenemy, the eyes finally bore trust and love for the older man.

"Vla- I mean, Dad, can you at least stay with me until I fall asleep again?"

"Of course, my boy." Vlad smiled as his son pulled him into a hug. "Of course."


	9. Hands

**day 6: Valerie**

* * *

Title: Hands  
Summary: The perks of passive aggression.  
No pairing.

* * *

Valerie slipped the needle in and out of the black pillow, somewhat focusing on the task in hand while apathetic thoughts drifted through her mind. She never had time for this skill anymore; ghost fighting continuously kept her schedule too busy for anything. But this Saturday was pretty quiet - she hadn't picked up an ectosignature since Thursday, and her teachers had magically assigned no homework that would be due on Monday. This weekend was going to be great!

She glanced down at the large cushion to check her progress, smiling a little at the flaming white D embroidered largely on the pillow's face. Looks like she hadn't lost the knack of sewing either – a skill her mother taught her before she passed away. All the small items she had made during her lifetime were displayed throughout the huntress's house – well, what was once her house. They had to sell all of the woman's creations, tearing both Valerie and Damon's hearts to shreds. All she had left was the skill her mother passed down; hands now able to create something beautiful.

With the last stitch, she held up the plush object, inspecting it of any flaws. The ghost boy wasn't flawed, so why would the pillow be? Valerie chuckled to herself; Paulina would freak if she saw this, begging to have one as well. But Valerie wouldn't let her have something that reminded the girl of Phantom. Phantom was only the Huntress's ghost for the taking.

Carrying the pillow outside, she once again inspected the sparkling white handiwork before throwing the object up high. In a flash, a fuchsia ray cut through the air, igniting the pillow in a fiery ball. Valerie watched it fall with a contented sigh, once again pocketing the ectogun. If only destroying Phantom was this easy.

Her watch beeped and displayed an ectosignature that she instantly recognized. "Ha." Valerie chuckled darkly as the African American's skin was covered by the suit of the Red Huntress. "As if you could ever have a break from _me_, ghost boy."

Her hands might have been taught to create something beautiful, but they were also taught to destroy as well.


	10. Burger

***rubs back of neck* I should have posted this days ago... as well as some of the other ones... sigh.**

* * *

Title: Burger  
Summary: Meat isn't always great.  
No pairing

* * *

"And that's the last ghost of the day!" Danny smirked as he flew back down and transformed back to human. He looked over to his two friends standing close by. "What do you guys want to do now?"

"Eat at the Nasty Burger." Tucker chimed, turning to walk towards the fast food joint. "I'll even pay."

"Of course you will." Danny snorted, amused. "Because you do _that_ so often."

"Hey! Just because I was a little low on money after I bought that new PDA, doesn't mean I would be broke forever. And it's got all these cool gadgets! See, Da – "

Tucker looked back to find his friends, but they weren't there anymore. In fact, nobody was on the street anymore. The sky was turning into an eerie red, and a wind whistled its way down the street, scooping up his beret in the process.

"My hat!" Tucker reached up to grab it, but as he nearly grabbed a hold it disappeared in a small poof.

Staring at where his hat once was with wide eyes, Tucker gulped nervously. "Danny? Sam? You guys better not be doing this."

"_Tucker_…"

Tucker spun around, visibly shaking. "Who said that!?" His glasses glinted against the harsh sun as he wildly roamed the area with his eyes. Something pressed against his leg, and the boy let out a yelp; daring to glance down at just what was on his leg.

It was a burger. It was _moving_.

"_Tucker… Eat me…"_

He backed away from the meat patty and buns, shaking. "I don't think I should…"

_"If you won't eat me… Then I'll eat you instead!"_

The burger grew in size until it towered over the African American, standing tall as it tilted over to look down at the teen with pickle eyes. Two of the interior patties opened up and ripped loose a meaty roar, covering the boy with mustard and other condiments.

He couldn't say anything. He couldn't move. All he could do was watch as the burger crept up on him slowly and pounce, mouth wide to gobble him up.

"TUCKER! BREAKFAST'S READY!"

The techno geek's head shot straight up from the desk he had been sleeping on, blinking in surprise. The smell of eggs and bacon drifted up from the kitchen, causing his mouth to water even more than it had been in his sleep.

"What a weird dream…" Tucker muttered, packing his stuff into his backpack for the school day. He glanced at the screen of his computer as he slipped his PDA into his pocket, and froze.

A Nasty Burger stretched across his screen, looking as menacing as the one in the nightmare. But the worst of all was the text file that was open with it, glaring at him with only three words.

"_Eat me, Tucker."_

Tucker pulled his phone out of it's pocket, and quickly called Sam.

"Hey Tucker, what's up?"

"How do salads taste?"


	11. A Thousand Years

**I tried. I really tried. I actually did post this Future fic on the right day, but that's just about it. I haven't contributed to phanniemay in days *le sigh* there's just no time to write/edit lately**

* * *

Title: A Thousand Years  
Summary: The future is not always bright.  
Pairing: Badger Cereal

* * *

The world was fading. Generation after generation had succumbed the land, breaking down the fertile fields and forests into megalopolises and landfills. Brown was the new color of the sky, acid rain the first line of defense against any sort of reformation of photosynthetic life; it had been too long since natural green colored a dead world.

The people had changed. The value of education toppled, thinkers and other scholars charged with the felony against humanity. Media dominated, an average thought now depleted to a second's passing. Society needed quick, needed easy, needed fun. Even if that included death.

One home in the Amity suburbia hadn't been affected by the rush of ignorance. However, the once boasting, outspoken individuals from the Fenton family line had finally died out a hundred years ago. The three story building - including the ops center - had started to break down like the grasses. Brick turned dark with slime, windows shattered by the unruly youth, metal plating beginning to rust through to the hinges - the pride and joy of every Fenton was in decay.

He hadn't realized that the building was in such of a need for refurbishing. The boy had been gone for so long, he hadn't even recognized what he used to call home - until the family sign sparked to life for only a moment, just to wheeze back into necrosis.

So many memories shot through his fingertips as hands traced every wall, corner, and door. He could see the families - his families, sitting in the living room joking, weeping, loving. All of which he had to experience in imperceptible anguish. Watching the families grow, birth, die, and grow again. Watching as time continued to dictate just how long they had until their hands entwined the red rose laid on their unmoving chest.

Specks of water plopped to the floor; silent tears ripping back towards the man that had came with him. Oh, how they used to hate each other when they were young, foolish, and reckless. A childish battle just to see just who was the stronger, more dominant of the two. They thought they had so many others in the world to care about besides each other.

Now, the only thing left in their worlds was each other.

"Daniel, I don't understand why you would wish to come back here yet again. It's been a millennium since our time periods finished. I wish you could just let go."

"I can't, Vlad. They deserved all of my attention, every single one of them."

"They understood, Daniel. You had to go. You didn't belong in a moving world, while we both stood frozen."

"I just wanted to feel normal again…"

"You tried being normal. Seven times in fact. And they all lead to more anguish." With a sigh, the elder edged up to the fourteen year old, snaking his arms around the body. "I wish sometimes everything could be normal again, too. But after witnessing the progress that has happened makes me realize that having normal lives only leads to a benighted existence. Let's return home, my little Phantom. The Ghost Zone is a much happier place than what this world has become."

The young halfa buried his face into the suit, arms digging into the man's back. He needed the comfort, needed the understanding, needed the love. He looked back up into the concerned eyes of who was once Vlad Masters, now a nobody just like him.

Because nobody should be able to avoid death for a thousand years.


	12. Cats

very short drabble haha sorry guys nothing much to post here

* * *

Title: Cats  
Summary: He shouldn't be so harsh  
No pairing.

* * *

Vlad stiffened as the white cat hit the opposite wall. He hadn't meant to kick Maddie that hard, he just wanted to give her some… motivation to stop dwindling around his feet. It wasn't like she was a tiny, small kitten anymore; she was big now, and definitely fat. Vlad wondered whether to put her on a diet.

But as Vlad once again looked over to where the cat had fallen, he was surprised to see it still laying there. Usually if Vlad got a little rough with her, she would hiss at him and promptly march out of the room. A stifled mew froze the billionaire, and the room became suddenly ten degrees cooler.

"Oh no… Maddie?"

Vlad approached the cat, worry etched into every detail of his body. He knelt down beside his feline pet, stoking the white pelt as the period between shuddered breaths became longer and longer. Soon, Maddie's breathe was no more.

Vlad was alone again; killing the only thing that had ever loved him back.


	13. Mother's Day

hahaha of course I would post my Mother's Day fic right around Father's Day

* * *

Name: Mother's Day  
Summary: She finally saw her son for who he is.  
No pairing.

* * *

"Danny…"

_Maddie watched her son take another bite out of his Club Royale, dijon mustard dribbling down the side of his mouth as the sandwich was removed from his lips. His blue eyes were twinkling; full of warmth and happiness that the mother had not seen for a while. She picked up her own Deli Club and bit down as well, taking in the sweet tasting ham and turkey. Mother/Son bonding day was just what they needed._

"My baby…"

_"You got a little something there, sweetie." Maddie picked up her napkin and started wiping his face. The teen squirmed away from the touch, laughing at the women's attempts to clean him._

_"Mom, stop, you're embarrassing me." He wiped off the remaining crumbs with the back of his hands, before taking a swig of his water to wash down the dry food. "So what else did you want to do today?"_

"How could have I not seen it before…"

_Maddie was about to answer when an explosion rocked the foundation around them, throwing bodies out of their seats. A hole appeared in the cafe's wall, and the metal body of the spectral hunter was outlined in the bright sun now seeping through the layering dust. People ran screaming from the scene, leaving just her and the boy alone in the restaurant._

_She hadn't brought her weapons, Danny had told her not to. He said that no ghost would be stupid enough to come during Mother's Day. If only he had been right._

"Just tell me…"

_"Phantom! Just the halfa I wanted to see." The robotic ghost bellowed, glaring confidently in her direction. None of this made sense to her; Phantom wasn't anywhere near the bistro. What was he talking about?_

_Footsteps echoed on the floor, and out of the corner of her eyes she caught the sign up a moving body. The moving body of her son._

_"Go away, Skulker, I am not going to fight today."_

_"Oh, there's not going to be a battle, young one. Just pain." Two missles exploded out of his shoulders, both rocketing towards the mother. Maddie saw her Danny glance at her with a fearful, apologetic glance, before the room exploded in light._

"Why?"

Phantom - Danny - pulled away from her embrace as they stood in their home, ghost alarm disabled. It all made sense; why the boomerang always flew at him, why the ghost gabber always said "fear me" after the teen uttered a sentence, why he was eager to leave the table when Jack brought another ghost weapon to the kitchen. Her son was part ghost. A product of her own success.

Those glowing emeralds had tears in forming, unable to control the emotions anymore. Danny glanced at the floor as the liquid streamed down his face, unable to look at his mother anymore. "I was scared. I didn't know what you or Dad would have done if you found out." He buried his face into her chest again, muffling a sob. "I was afraid you would kill me."

"Oh, Danny." She wrapped her arms around the cool body, finger straying up to run her fingers through the soft, white hair. It was amazing, really - how so many people haven't noticed the similarities between the Fenton and the Phantom. Maddie couldn't even believe she didn't notice. "I'm so sorry that I made you fear me. Dad and I would have never dared to harm you if we had known from the beginning."

Danny sniffed as the rings of light separated at the boy's waist, turning him back human. The cool body became warm again, and her Daniel now peered up at her with his long black locks. "This isn't going to change anything between us, is it?"

Maddie smiled warmly at her half human son. "I hope not, dear. I just know that having you finally share your secret with me was the best Mother's Day gift I could have ever hoped for."


	14. The Walk

Title: The Walk  
Summary: Just a few more feet..

* * *

Oxygen came and went with shallow breaths; progress of movement slowing to a minimal. Muscles strained to keep his body upright, intact; but with each step, Phantom's back arched forward a little more. He only had a few more feet to go; two more housing complexes to pass, a block between him and the safety of his home.

He didn't try to focus on the small drips that splattered a trail behind him; the rancid smell of ectoplasm lighting the path from his initial collapse to where he stood now. The white of his gloves were stained in that acid green, and more than once ruby flashed to life - only for the boy to concentrate hard enough to maintain form. It was the only way to keep him together; alive enough to pass through the open doors where his parents and sister would be waiting.

He had hardly acknowledged it was past his curfew before the Red Huntress had knocked him out of the sky; a large enough gash that had kept him bleeding this whole time. Phantom wondered what had happened to Valerie - it was unlike her to give up the chase. Maybe it was the crash; the sounds of multiple bones snapping irregularly in the still night. His body's refusal to move as his brain screamed at him to get away. She had left him for dead, so it was a good thing when an arm finally twitched to life and buckled underneath him to lift the decaying soul from the dirt.

But he was losing it. His vision was narrowing; darkness crowding the corners of his eyes to the point where the sidewalk directly in front of him was what he could only identify. His skeleton ached in protest; sickening pops ringing out after every three or four steps. He could trace the outline of the fracture in his left leg, and his radius made a point scrape along the confines of it's entrapment underneath the epidermis. And the ectoplasm… so much of it was gone. His body pulling it's resources away from the physical pain just to keep his entity maintained. He glanced down at the hole in his chest; ribs shining amongst the green; an eerie blue ghosting it all to indicate his core had been barely missed. But the icy heart was fading; the glow flickering as each breath became slower, lighter… gone.

The hero fell to his knees; the arm clutching his side falling to support what mass he had left. The darkness shadowed his sight, leaving him blind as unbearable cold started seeping in. Quaking in near death, his limbs failed yet again; his face smashing into the concrete, ripping into what was left of untouched flesh. Blood pooled around him, and as his memories flashed in his mind one last time, the spectral body began to fade; the black and white threads of his jumpsuit and hair evaporating until all that was left was the pale carcass of fourteen year old Danny Fenton; 25 feet away from his front doorstep.


	15. Invisible

I took a chance and I messed it up horribly. Sigh. Inspired by the demonstration a motivational speaker held that literally made me cry.

I've also come to realize that I am really informal with my writing. I don't really know how to feel about this, because some people like it yet some hate it. Do I even have a writing style? It's more like me just throwing ideas together and then editing them to fit the best they can...

I had these thoughts as I was trying to pick the next drabble from tumblr to post here because I fell behind quite badly. And the ones I haven't posted... I shouldn't really post I think... they're more informal than this and make even less sense...

Sorry for that tangent, it's inadvertently getting stuff off my chest and it makes me feel a little better.

For everyone that has been awesome enough to leave comments and reviews, thank you. It always makes me smile knowing that at least somebody liked/had something to say about what I wrote.

* * *

**Invisible  
**Ignorance is not always bliss.

* * *

It hurt.

Danny hit the ground hard, the sickening thud of his limp body echoing in his ears. He could hear the boys laughing, especially Dash - the true devil to his day at Casper High. He didn't understand why. He couldn't understand why. Why was it fun to torment him?

He had never done nothing wrong to them, he never strayed from his path. It wasn't like he was any more handicapped than he already was - he went to normal classes just like those jocks did. He was still mentally capable, if not more so, than his spiteful peers.

But he couldn't do anything about it.

Tears rolled down his cheeks and soaked the ground underneath him, the thuds of footsteps surrounding him in the hallway. He could feel the stares, hear the muscles turn into either faint smiles as they passed by the helpless teen, or frowns that disapproved the antics that were happening on the way to class. But none of them stopped to help him up, offered to grab the books that had scattered across the floor. They passed by him, sometimes jabbing the boy with their Nikes without even offering a glance or a "sorry."

So he laid there; suffering under the endless torment of ignorance, the knife of indifference. It was times like these where he knew that in this world, you were truly alone. He remembered the motivational speaker from the week before; the one that asked about whether they wanted the power to fly or be invisible. Danny wished he had spoken up, admit that he wanted flight because he was _already_ invisible. And as the bell finally rang, the mass of bodies began dispersing into their classrooms until only the male remained in the empty stretch of hallway.

"Danny?" A voice echoed from above him, and the boy shut his eyes. He wished it was rather Sam and Tucker; they understood how he felt. Just the other seeing him helpless like this made the whole situation even worse. He felt light hands wrap around his stomach, and slowly the boy was lifted into the air until he was back seated in his chair. Those same hands took a hold of his shoulders, and the ghost came up close. Danny could feel the emerald eyes bore into his head, but he continued to train his eyes upon the ground, black hair falling down on his face. He felt the polyester of the gloves brush underneath his chin. Fingers laced the skin, and unwillingly those eyes traveled from the tile back into the concerned orbs.

"Danny. What happened."

"Phantom." The human jerked his face away from the hand, but there was no way of escaping the entity - Phantom's spectral tail had wrapped around the boy in the ghost's usual, somewhat brotherly, affection. "Nothing happened. I'm fine."

Phantom snorted, leaning back a little so he could fold his arms across his chest. "Nothing, huh? That usually doesn't result leaving you stuck on the ground."

Danny remained silent, before his own hands grabbed a hold of the wheels attached to his chair and pushed forward. The ghost sighed, before floating towards the back of the wheelchair and taking over control. They remained that way for a while, until the specter finally spoke again in a softer tone.

"You know, I can always stop Dash from being an asshole."

"What are you going to do? Paralyze him?"

Phantom flinched, before their small two person train halted. "Danny, what are you saying?"

"None of this would be happening if it wasn't for that accident!" Danny growled, face twisting into a frown. "If I hadn't had stepped inside that portal, been so stupid to trip on a damn wire and shock half of my nerves dead! I can't even walk anymore!"

The tail left the boy's upper torso, and Danny's head turned to catch the ghost staring back at him, an ectoplasmic tear rolling down glowing skin. The human's eyes widened as he realized what he said, and he reached out to take a hold of the being. "Phantom, I…"

"It sucks, you know?" Phantom's voice quivered, backing away from the touch. "I only exist because that portal fried half of your being and formed me. That my birth was from your pain. I never forget that, and I don't need to be reminded." He turned away, dropping down to a whisper. "I'm sorry that I even exist."

"No, Phantom!" Danny twisted the chair around, but the ghost was long gone. The human stared at the space where he once floated, and with a dejected sigh, his hands gripped the rims again, and propelled himself towards the school exit; not feeling well enough to continue the school day.


	16. The Split

**The Split**  
When Sam found them split, she thought that things would be different this time around.

* * *

When they found out that their friend had split yet again, Sam immediately shoved the techno-geek out of her way and grabbed the teen with the plaid shirt and snapback. Tucker had his fun with the full human last time this happened, so she might as damn well have the cool Danny this time. It seemed like a foolproof plan.

But this was ridiculous.

Sam strummed her fingers in irritation against the armrest, watching the opening credits roll down the screen for the Hangover 3; peeved that Danny had chosen such a low class budget film. She would much rather be seeing that movie with Mark Ruffalo, that "Now You See Me" magic film, but apparently it wasn't 'cool' enough. She huffed, throwing a sideways glare at her crush busily munching down on two giant corn-dogs. The human noticed the glance, and turned to her with a wide smile full of excess food.

"Yo, Sam, thanks for hooking me up with the movie and food. Totally rad of you."

"You're completely welcome." The goth growled, before flinching and letting out a slight hiss as the fun Danny poked her cheek with the uneaten dog-on-a-stick. "What?"

"I thought you would be hungry, brah."

"I'm ultra-recyclo-vegetarian. We don't eat meat. You know that!"

"Do I?" He sat back in his chair, pulling his arms behind his head as he stared up at the private theater's ceiling. "I mean I could, but who doesn't eat meat?" Grinning slightly, he looked back to irate Sam. "Does that include all meat?"

"What? Yes!"

The boy chuckled, and the Goth turned back to the screen, glaring as she felt a slight blush creep on her cheeks. She should have let Tucker handle this slob again, the disgusting pig who had no class or indivi-

"You know, babe…" A hand slipped onto her leg, and she snapped back to the boy; noticing the hungry look on his face. Confusion, anger, and disgust all filled her instantaneously.

"What did you just call me?" She squeaked.

"You look pretty bangin' in that crop top…"

"Excuse me!?"

The hand slid upwards into her skirt, and Sam's blush flared as she slapped the hand away. "What are you doing!?"

"Oh, babe, don't pretend you haven't imagined this for years now…" That face came in closer, lips slightly protruding as they opened slightly. Sam tried to lean in as far back as possible - the movie completely ignored at this point - but the human just leaned over the divider; Danny coming closer as hands started…

"MMHMM."

The couple looked up to see the glowing crusader above them, cape fluttering in a nonexistent wind as he glared down at the antics below with peridot eyes. "Just what do you think you're doing, Fenton!?"

"Bro, If you couldn't tell I was about to hit a double!" The teen shouted; hat falling off as he shot into a standing position. He faltered a little, glancing down at his snapback before quickly picking it back up and firmly placing it backwards on his head.

Phantom scoffed. "I don't see how the game of baseball can be compared to sexual relations."

Neither saw the Goth gag, but Fenton stepped forward as the ghost floated down so that they stood chest to chest, in each others faces.

"It's a TERM for us BROS to use when we about to smash! But you wouldn't know because 'you only serve to protect this city'."

"And I do!" Phantom's chest swelled. "Amity Park's hero and protector, saving everyone from all misdeeds! And you, my doppelgänger, are doing a mighty injustice on this lassie!"

"LASSIE!?"

"Shut up, Samantha." "Shut up, brah." Both Danny's automatically responded, still glaring at each other. Sam bit down at her tongue, eyes closing as she clenched trembling fists. The girl rose from her chair; walking over to both halves of her crush with a forced smile before striking both of them hard across the cheek.

"You," the Goth pointed to the human, "are a gross douchebag. And you," swinging to the ghost, "are a complete imbecile." She stalked to the personal theater's exit. "You guys tell me when you're back to an actually tolerable Danny."

As the door slammed behind her, Sam swore she could hear them laughing.


	17. The Behemoth

hello my name is swaq and I am addicted to crack pairings. I present the ship White Monster.

* * *

**The Behemoth  
**Where my shipping takes a turn down a lonely, unpaved road.

* * *

The Behemoth grinned with it's razor sharp teeth as it's fist withdrew from the purple mountain. In the impressive crater that had formed from the impact laid a white-haired ghost; it's black suit tattered and unusually tangerine skin dotted with sickening green bruises. It wasn't really much of a meal for the beast, but hey, if something flies along into your trap unknowingly, why miss the opportunity?

With one of it's four hands, he scraped the boy up from it's resting place, large claws closing around the small frame. He could feel solidity underneath the skin, and with a squeeze felt a few objects pop inside it's grasp. A moan escaped from the unconscious's lips, making the hungry smile fall and crunch into a small O. Eyes lit in wonder at the ghost in it's now open palm, and with a single claw from one of it's other limbs, tilted the tanned head upwards so that the beast could look at the spirit again.

It noted the slightly parted lips; the small rise and fall of the chest. The tattered clothes had an emblem on it, which made the Behemoth note as that one ghost that it had always seem to hear about. Phantom? The small thing sort of fit the description. The child's structure was nearly the same as the blue vampire thing that had escaped it's clutches earlier, but even in similarities, the one it held now was no where near like it's elder. The youth, the beauty, the innocence and fear that was held behind a mask of bravery during the fight. The more the monster traced over every detail with the claw, staring intensely down at it's catch, the more it realized just how special the ghost was that just about became it's dinner.

The amazement turned into a small smile as it tucked the boy into the cranny of his lower right arm, floating from their place of battle. Like all of it's treasures, it had to be safe, nourished, and taken care of. The little the Behemoth knew of the boy's heroics were made known by the same whispers of how much they hated the beast's new possession, and the monster couldn't let such a pure soul perish because it had left it weakened and unprotected. What the Behemoth felt for the teen was different from any ghost that it had met before (and not eaten).

Hopefully the Phantom would feel the same way.


	18. Breath Mints

another drabble I posted on tumblr a while ago (as with most of these because yes I am in a rut with writing)

* * *

**Breath Mints**  
Random kissy kiss Swagger Bishie

* * *

Danny cringed as the familiar brutish arms slammed down on the lockers next to him; feeling the hot breath press down on his face that had the aroma of sour cream and onion. A horrible smell. That belonged to a horrible person.

Dash Baxter grinned down at his prey, feeling pride swell inside of him as he watched the boy flinch. Scrawny Fentonail was such an easy picking; too weak to fight back and too quiet to have many people back him up. Yes, the way that he bruised underneath each blow, the look in fear in the brilliant blue eyes, the way his black hair swirled on his head; each strand that the jock just wanted to feel and stroke his fingers through…

The smile faltered just a little; Dash wondering how such thoughts came across his mind. It was Fenton, of all people! He couldn't see how he would stumble in his superior authority over someone so small! There was no way that he would back down to this puny kid, this kid whose shirt hung off his body, pants sagging a little. Hips that supported the waist of his jeans, that sorta shifted left to right as he walked…

"Get ready, Fenton."

Danny closed his eyes, ready to take whatever Dash was about to do with his fist. He didn't really care, anyways. It would heal by the end of the day, and it at least kept the other teens out of the jock's harm. Yet when he felt the thick fingers wrap around his skull, and felt the brush of skin against his lips… Danny's eyes shot open to find that Dash was kissing him. Hard.

The jock's tongue brushed against the teen's chapped, pink skin, snapping Danny out of his stupor. Tapping into his powers, he pushed Dash back; making the alphamale stumble before falling on his ass.

How did Fenton just do that!? Dash stared with wide eyes up at the teen standing over him, looking down at him with equally shocked eyes. Those thin lips compressed slightly in thought, opening just a little to let out of murmur.

"Dash…" Danny frowned in thought, and the football star just realized what he had done. He started to stutter, backing away until he pressed against a wall; all the while staring down what he thought was his prey. But Danny continued to follow him, cornering him until there was no where else to go. But before Dash could say anything, Danny fell in between Dash's knees and kissed him right back, before pulling away from the stunned jock with a smile on his face.

"Next time you want to make out, Dash, bring breath mints."


	19. CPR

quietly posts more really old fanfiction as I continue filling out college applications

* * *

**CPR**  
He had sworn to himself that nobody would get hurt.

* * *

His heart leapt to his throat, anguish burning in his ectoplasmic green eyes. He had sworn to himself that nobody would get hurt while he protected the town. Especially if it was the people that he held close.

Especially if it was his girlfriend.

He pressed on the wound, trying to force the crimson that pooled around their battered bodies to return back to it's source. He called upon his ice powers to try to seal the fatal wound. But it kept bleeding; ice turning into rubies as they broke away from the skin. Danny didn't know what to do; helpless as he as he watched the girl's eyes flutter before focusing on Danny's desperate attempts to salvage what was left before she slipped into the next life.

"Danny, stop. It's too late."

"No Valerie, I'm not losing you!"

"It's too late…" the words died on bated breath, and Danny frantically began CPR with one hand while pressing the wound with the other. He wasn't going to lose her, he wasn't…

He collapsed on top of the African, beating the ground in anger. Why couldn't he have been strong enough to save her!? Fast enough!? He was suppose to be _her_ superhero, protect and die for her no matter the cost! What did he have to live for without his partner in crime, defending their city from the other dimension?

He unholstered the spare gun strapped to the Huntress's hip, and as the silent tears cleaned away the blood on his face he unlocked the safety. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his friends arrive, running to stop the boy from doing something stupid.

However, it wasn't stupidity that made him decide it was time. Made him raise the barrel to his temple. Valerie had told him to move on if she were to die. And she was right. If he moved on as well, hopefully he would catch her in time so they could travel together into the light.

They never did reach him in time.


	20. Dance With Me

**Dance With Me  
**Just this once he will let the billionaire have his way.

* * *

The scowl on Danny Fenton's face never really left from morning, as the boy now plucked at the frills of the gaudy old black and green dress that was too tight on his chest, exploded on his hips, and swept the floor like an impromptu broom. He could feel the man's smirk burning on the back of his head, and whipped around; the dress swirling in the air just like in the movies.

"This is stupid." Danny hissed; teeth clenched and eyebrows knitted together. However, the glare he aimed at the elder fell harmless. Vlad chuckled at the sight, feeling the usual glee when his antics got him what he wanted. With the boy in such attire, well, his confidence nearly skyrocketed to the moon.

"Oh please, Daniel, don't act like you don't think it's lovely." Vlad grinned, watching as Danny's eyes flashed green and he took a audible step forward; the clack of a stiletto tapping on the wooden floor. "And you pull off the heels so well."

_That_ got underneath the boy's skin, and as the boy flushed and looked away - muttering about how it was his sister's fault - Vlad took Danny's hand and wrapped an arm to hug the younger's lower back. Danny shot another glare up at the billionaire, who only just rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"Just one dance, Little Badger. No strings attached."

"You mean besides dressing like a women straight from the middle ages."

"Daniel."

Begrudgingly, Danny wrapped his non-captive arm around Vlad before the man took the first step. Their outstretched arms rolled with their bodies as the slowly waltzed in a circle; Daniel stumbling just a few times with his two left feet. Sometimes he would land on Vlad's feet (more times than others just to make the man feel as much pain as he was in), but soon he sighed, closing his eyes and laying his head against the suited chest. He had to admit, it was nice to just move with the elder, the faint melody of Beethoven's Le Désir echoing from the boombox in the corner. The strong arms, ones that once that caused pain, now protecting him, owning him.

"Vlad."

"Yes, my boy?"

"You better not make me wear a dress next time."


	21. Drips

heyho guess what I did instead of doing some homework. wow I haven't written stuff in a while I'm russtyyy.

**Drips  
**Sometimes, I wish it only was the faucet.

* * *

_Drip_.

Fifty six. Another drop of ectoplasm falls from the table and scatters across floor, painting the tiles like a mural with the rest of it's comrades. The table flowed with a million more recruits, as the shudder of the stripped body quaked their population.

_Drip_.

Fifty seven. Each one of them is loud, persistent - begging for attention. The mural is looking more like a small lake, rivers flowing out of each parallel crack between marble slabs. It stained the pearly white with it's acid, the color of lypple; marking it's path as more and more of the substance spilled and ventured the unknown below.

_Drip_.

Fifty eight. The feel is cold, sticky, wet - it makes the experiment uncomfortable. However, even the slightest shift of weight or twitch of muscles releases thousands upon thousands of hot needles picking away at the skin, tearing flesh, drawing more of its blood. Another choking cough racks the broken frame, forcing whimpers to escape with each expulsion of air, before the ghost lies still; trying not to gasp for oxygen as it hurts so much more than the chaffing on his wrist. However, it still rises and falls, much to his chagrin; much to the scientist's amazement. They poked and prodded at the lungs, unbelieving - even scraped some skin off the organ. All he could do was lie there, tears pooling next to his ears, mixing with the green blood, just hoping that another session of torture would end soon.

_Drip_.

Fifty nine. Discarded scalpels, saws, petri dishes, and gloves tainted with his fluids were strewn across the counter tops around him, all visible to the faintly pulsing luminescence of ectoplasm. The 'Y' shaped scar on his chest was the brightest - still containing the pumping death fluid, still holding an afterlife in existence. The Phantom couldn't help but stare down in wonder, in horror, of what they did to his chest; not even bothering to sew it up (they meant to dive into his intestines in the morning, stitching the dissecting marks would just be pointless.) Staring back up at the darker ceiling, all Danny could do was focus on the only sound that echoed in the chamber.

_Drip_.

Sixty. He blinked, only to shriek and throw his eyes open again. Blue and orange monsters stared down at him in his seclusion, mouths with big, evil smiles and flashes of silver dancing overhead. Sleep wasn't an option, no matter how much the fatigue made his body want to power down. He couldn't, he wouldn't transform while he was still strapped here, unable to know if the same injuries would transfer over. But it was no question to him that he _would_ die if they did. So he floated in semiconscious, losing the awareness of his surroundings, the drips his only anchor in staying coherent.

_Drip-p-p-p_.

The echoes were intensifying, each drip bouncing off the walls and each other so they rang as one continuous note in his ears. The melody was diminishing, the pain striking less often with every slowing thump of his core. His eyes failed to stay open, and for once, nobody was there in the black. Just the white light glowing in the distance.

_Drip_.

—

Vlad Masters was straightening his collar, foot tapping impatiently as he waited at the front door of the Fenton residence. The two had dialed his number late last night, and with a press of the answer button, wild, uncivilized exclamations from both Jack and Maddie blared out the speaker. Waiting for them to finally calm down, they said that he _must _come over that night, that they had finally caught a ghost and that examining it with him would have been like old time's sake.

"Old time's sake, hmph." Vlad muttered, eyes swiveling upwards to the second story window. He didn't notice the boy's shadow there, much to his disappointment. From this distance his ghost sense would have gone off by now.

No matter. As soon as that irksome teenager found his way to the living room and found Vlad sitting there, the billionaire would give his best thousand watt smile he knew Daniel hated.

The door finally swung open; Jack yawning in his purple night gown before blinking down at his college roommate.

"Oh, Vladdie!" Jack smiled, before glancing down at his watch. "It's early."

"Yes, well…" Vlad sidestepped around the man into his house, noting the absence of any other signs of life before turning around again and giving Jack a fake grin. "I have another busy day planned. Board meetings with the council, a handful of business deals to handle, you know, the usual." Waving his hand in the air, Vlad strolled to the kitchen and sat down. "Where happens to be everyone this morning?"

"Maddie's still asleep upstairs." Jack replied, coming in as well before grabbing the coffee pot and a mug. He poured two cups and slid one over to Vlad, who eyed it with carefully hidden disdain. "Jazz moved in to her dorm at Berkeley last week, as you might of heard."

"And Daniel?"

"At a friend's house."

Vlad frowned. The last time he hacked the boy's messages, there didn't seem to be any sort of plan for a sleepover. But then again, plans do change. He wasn't planning on coming over until they had mentioned about catching a ghost, and he was curious to see just who they caught.

The Box Ghost, no doubt, but even then the worthless cardboard loving spirit probably needed to be saved, just so he could protect his secret.

"So about this ghost…"

"Oh, yea! I almost forgot about that for a moment!" Jack beamed as he shot up and nearly skipped over to the basement. "We got it strapped down to the table last night and already did some tests. It was nearly two or three in the morning before we stopped; all the excitement wore us out! Hence why Maddie's still in bed." With a twist of the lock, the door opened. Vlad crinkled his nose at the smell of fresh decay and ectoplasm, but promptly got up and followed Jack down.

"Honestly, Jack, I don't understand why you're this excited enough to call _me _of all people. I haven't thought about ghost study in…" Vlad froze as he stepped off the final stair, eyes widening at the dissection table across from him. Tangled white hair and glossy green irises stared blankly back at him; the faint drip of ectoplasm still ringing in the air.

Vlad had never felt so cold, so empty, as he looked at the once defiant child strewn out across the table, chest carved and empty, lacerations and abuse covering his sides. Jack's sigh was almost lost in Vlad's shock, before the big man spoke again.

"Well, darn. I was hoping Phantom would survive through the night for more experimentation." He glanced over to the mayor with a frown. "You seem a little queasy though, Vladdie. Has it been that long?"

"I…" Vlad faltered. "I just thought Phantom was too elusive to ever be caught."

"We thought so too, until we got him with a tranquilizer. Oh, you should of seen the look on his face." Jack chuckled as he slapped Vlad's back, making him jump. "We have accomplished a great thing, Vlad! Phantom's been terrorizing this town for years now, and other ghosts only seemed to come because of him. With the ghost boy out of the picture, attacks shouldn't be a problem anymore!"

Vlad nodded, his eyes still staring at the dead halfa. He barely heard Jack ramble on about him staying for breakfast, or how Danny would be so proud when he finally came home, before climbing the stairs; leaving the billionaire alone in the basement.

_Drip_.


End file.
